The Fall of the Stars Book 1: Wheels of War

Walter Barawayne I

The sight of his father's ugly, dingy castle put a smile on Walter's face. Several days of careful riding along the wet, swampy shores of Lady's Lake, being slammed by heavy, thunderous rains and snowstorms, and living off of spare meat and whatever villagers would give him for free since he had no money, left him weary and sick. His skin grew shades paler as each day progressed and his sniffles and sneezes got worse. But he was home now and would soon be able to rest.

The red comet that the Barawaynes took as their sigil flew gracelessly as Walter made his way to the gate. Up on the battlements, two guards looked down at him.

"Who be you?" one of them asked. Walter recognized his voice.

"Hemp, open the bloody gates before I die, you fool."

He could see Hemp's grin through his rusted half helm. "So Sir Walter returns. Ill tidings await you inside, M'lord."

I know, he thought, but he rode through the gate silently. Rather than tying his mount up, he leapt off and left it to whoever decided to bring it to the stables. He had no energy left in him and only wanted to speak with his father before he retired to his chambers for sleep. It had only been a bit less than a fortnight since he last saw the shabby structure he called a castle, but he found he missed it sorely. The walls, which were always wet because of the constant rain, felt strange to him as he hung on it to balance himself. The hills of ice stacked about the castle also warmed him, though he never liked them before. Whenever it isn't raining, it snows.

His father was where he always was, in his chambers drinking and snapping chicken bones to pieces. Mard Barawayne was a man always shrouded in darkness and shame for as long as Walter could recall. After his wife died, he never smiled, nor did he leave his room to do anything but slander King Rickardo. Years and years ago, King Rickardo Starfront sentenced his wife's two brothers to death for treason. The brothers were Mard's best friends and childhood companions, as well as the heirs to Rigny and Gastow. He had taken to eating as a hobby and grew nearly four times the size of the average man. His hair was gone at the top, and what remained at the sides were white as the snow that blanketed the grass outside the castle.

"You're alive. Good. A message from that...king," his father said, tossing an unfolded roll of parchment to him. "Perhaps the most idiotic thing I've read to date. What form of foolishness is this? Tell me of what happened at Mewood, Walter."

"I bested his bastard in a melee," Walter declared. "They want my head because I took his eye. It was a melee, so all was fair. Just the Starfronts being arrogant again."

"Starfronts exist in a perpetual state of arrogance." Mard shifted in his chair and put the wine down. "Read the whole thing."

"Aye, I did. It says I'm wanted for treason. Something about conspiring with the Colters. I'll have you know I did no such thing, father. I arrived in Mewood while the Stars and Moons started their little trifle, true, but I took no part whatsoever. I would not have even stayed so long, but..."

"You found a woman," Mard finished. "You find a woman wherever you go. Are you certain this one wasn't a whore?"

"Absolutely. A beauty she is, father. Altarine. Finer than any other woman I've known."

"The girl does not concern me. What happened at the melee?"

"I defeated many a knight, some big named, others obscure. Several I injured in various ways, but I had faced no complaint until I bested the Green Bastard. In the heat of the battle I thrust my blunted sword into his eye through his helm, and immediately everyone lost their wits. Men and women shouted and threw things at me, and some even tried to leap the stands and assault me. I fled, as any sane man would, and took to the inn where I left my belongings. By nightfall news had spread and even the innkeeper scorned me. I hastily gathered my things and fled the city, leaving behind my squire and my love."

Lord Barawayne nodded. "And Tyler Colter was there, I heard."

"He was. That had naught to do with me. The bastard captured him and brought him to the city. I never laid eyes on the man."

"I only hope he didn't say too much."

"What do you mean?"

Lord Barawayne took a large gulp of the wine before he spoke again. "The King has half the truth. You yourself were not consorting with the Colters, but your brother was. Or should I say is? He is currently at East Orange."

"My brother...?" Walter did not understand. "What is going on, father?"

"As we speak, Allen is in East Orange treating with the yellow lords and finding alliances and men wherever he can. Edmen, meanwhile, has been rallying the Snowlanders and collecting swords. He should be on his way now to Islanda to try and treat with them."

"You mean to betray the king?" The instant his father spoke that treason, Walter knew his brother Edmen was behind it all. Their father had always been steadfast in his hatred for the Starfronts, but Edmen was even worse. He had suffered no personal slights or misgivings from the Starfronts, yet Edmen hated them all the same. His father's teachings had sunk into him early on, so much so that as a youth he refused to even visit Starcastle, as was customary for most lords and their heirs.

"Rick Starfront is no king of mine," Lord Barawayne said in almost a whisper. "Besides, he means to take your head. If I refuse him, he will want mine. You know how Starfronts love heads. We have no choice but to defy him."

"King Rick does not mean to take my head, father. He wouldn't."

"Really?" That seemed to amuse his father. Nothing ever amused him. "Do you know who Walker Felt is? Sir Tiller? Lord Mike? Timoth Torrent? Gavin Scarce? Sir Grobert of the Wood? Or maybe perhaps you've heard the tale of Jory Stant?"

"I... I do not know who those men are," Walter admitted. His father deliberately left out the names of his two best friends.

"Rulers, Lords, knights, unfortunate men, all beheaded by Rick Starfront for trite reasons like treason and such. Except Sir Grobert, he was beheaded by the bastard not too long ago for reasons I do not know. Jory was the husband of the Erian wench who bore his bastard. Decapitation is the only form of justice they know, Walter. They will have your head like they had all of those other heads. You would allow it, I see, but I will not see my son's head on a spike in my lifetime."

"I do not understand..." Walter took a seat on his lord father's bed. My father has finally gone mad.

"You are still young. I do not expect you to understand."

"So you really do mean to defy the king?"

"The only king I know now is Drake Barawayne, King of the Snowlands."

"Drake?" That almost brought out a chuckle from Walter. "Drake fashions himself a king now? He is but a boy of fifteen. I would be king before him."

"No, I fashion Drake a king. Fitting, I see, to be named after a Starfront king and be named king yourself in defiance to them."

"Drake Starfront never sat the throne. He was eaten by a griffin."

"To be sure." Lord Barawayne took up his cup but did not drink for a while. He sat silently, staring out of his window. A brooding, dark air took him over and his usual disheartened frown returned to his face. He drank, and then drank, and then drank some more. Soon, Walter noticed him begin to doze. With nothing left to be said, Walter rose from the bed and made for the door.

"I will have it," Mard Barawayne said as Walter was about to exit the room. "I will have my vengeance."